


The Peacekeeper

by pendaly, SpiralingDragon



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Godstuck, Homestuck Secret Santa Exchange 2016, Illustrated, Karkat was a huge asshole, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, post sburb/sgrub (alternate ending)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-09-07 07:05:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8788261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendaly/pseuds/pendaly, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiralingDragon/pseuds/SpiralingDragon
Summary: After the end of a game in a possible alternate pre-retcon timeline, those still alive in the game are reincarnated as gods, those who didn't survive to the end return to the new universe as regular inhabitants. One such inhabitant is Gamzee Makara. After a visit to the Temple Gamzee finds himself whisked into a journey of self-discovery under the watchful eye of The People's Shield.





	1. Genesis

**Author's Note:**

> This was written by myself and SpiralingDragon as a part of the Homestuck Secret Santa exchange for Pumpkablook. This was based off of an old RP that spiral and I did together about a year and a half ago, so the setting is more based off of a possible ending for the pre-retconned timeline rather than what we ended up with for the canon ending.
> 
> I'm terribly sorry that it's currently unfinished. I have two final chapters to write and illustrate. I hope to have them done by the end of the week for you. Until then please enjoy what I have written so far! Happy Holidays!

At first the world was barren. That’s what the scripture says. First there was a great nothing, and with a flourish suddenly there was a great _something_.

A world that was dark at first and from that darkness emerged first the trolls. First the grey-skinned creatures that matched the color of the untouched planet. Then came the _Wind_ and he wiped away the planet’s grey and brought with him the seasons, giving the earth fertile land, the planet became a rich brown and from that did the humans first emerge, skin the same brown as the dirt from which they grew.  

After The Wind came The _Mother_ who brought fertility not only to their species but to their soil and their lands. She brought with her birth and wrigglers and children who screamed and cried and laughed and ran naked through the young world. Then came _Time_ who brought with him age that brought these children into adolescence and the adults into old age. With age came the beginning of death and a deep desire to protect oneself from that sudden end.

Death brought with it Loss, a deep sensation inspiring _Thought_ into where those dead may have gone, into contemplation on the world they lived in. With this contemplation the first records of the world began to emerge. Drawings created by the primitive peoples of the planet. Why did these people die? Where did they go? Should they follow? Soon many of them learned to fear death and this Loss that came with it.

With this new found fear came anger and crime that plagued their budding species. The unjust taking of objects, of lives. With crime soon arrived _Law_. Law that punished those who took. With law came those who created law, those who lead others, those who could-- if they so desired-- exploit the people following them.

With leaders came The _People_. Those trolls and humans who worked and did not lead. Who followed and could not always defend themselves or their well being. The People who were sometimes trodden into the gutters and made to feel lesser. Thus began stories of those protectors who watched over them all.

The Wind of Nature.

The Mother of Children.

The Time of Death.

The Thought of Loss.

The Law of Equality.

The Shield of the People.

They say that the Shield comes to the downtrodden in their times of need. They say that he protects those who need it most if only they have faith in him.

* * *

The air was _cold_ when Gamzee rolled over, arm slung over his eyes to keep the harsh morning sun from waking him further.  It was inevitable, though, and when the first bird perched on the sill and sang his wakeup call, Gamzee sat up and glared at the little feathered beast, before growling and sending it on its way. Well, he was awake now, so he might as well get ready for the day.

It was with some amount of protest from his gangly limbs that Gamzee placed one bare foot after another onto the cold dirt floor of his home, if it could be called that. Rubbing away the sleep from his tired eyes, he gazed over the small hovel, a single small room with a single window. In the doorway a cloth, nearly as filthy as the shack’s inhabitant, swayed gently in the morning breeze. The bed upon which he sat was little more than a collection of tattered cloths to pad one corner of the room and he considered himself lucky to have received so much as a largely intact blanket from a monk at the temple.

Gamzee stood with a yawn, stooping to keep his horns from scraping across the shaky ceiling and dragged his feet along the floor towards a small table tucked up against the wall where an old half-eaten loaf of bread remained, wrapped in what little filthy cloth he could spare. Beside the bread laid a luxury in the form of a small square of cheese. An empty satchel hung by the doorway, probably the nicest thing he owned. It was old and worn down, but the leather held up well over time and Gamzee treasured that stupid thing like it was gold. It wasn’t much, but it was more than the poor sods out on the street had and he considered himself lucky for it. There was little else in his shack of a house. Wood walls, dirt floor and a thatch roof, drafts that came through the poor workmanship made Winters cold and brutal, but it was home and it was his and he was grateful to have a home at all.

The lanky troll made his way to the small table, brushing his hands across his shirt and pants to knock dirt and wrinkles out of them. He’d have to get new clothes soon, he realized, popping the last of the cheese into his mouth and tearing off a piece of bread before rewrapping it. It was getting colder and his skeletal frame made keeping warm a difficult process; he didn’t want to freeze like he had a few years ago.

With fingers stiff and cold with the remnants of sleep, Gamzee made his way towards the door and picked up his satchel from it’s place - a rusty old nail that stuck out from the wall - and (with a little difficulty) pulled it over his horns and settled it into its place on his shoulder. He took a deep breath, letting go of the last clinging drowsiness before slipping out into the crisp morning air and heading towards the marketplace.

The walk to the market was a quick one through the slums that he lived in, passing by children - humans and trolls alike - hardly younger than himself begging scraps of food or pocket change. It had taken himself years to finally crawl out from complete poverty, all thanks to the gods, he told himself every morning as he passed by those who had not been as fortunate as he. When a little blonde girl tugged on his shirt Gamzee stopped walking and turned to her, lips turned down in a frown as he turned out his pockets to show he had no money. "Sorry, little sister," he said, bringing a hand down to pet her head affectionately. "Ain't got nothin' today." The little girl pouted and tried to cling to Gamzee's leg as he moved away, only to be pulled back by - who Gamzee could only assume to be - her older sister.

In an effort to avoid having to give other children the same unfortunate response to their begging, Gamzee quickened his pace towards the market, hurrying past the poor kids, hookers, beggars, and the like. He arrived in the marketplace with a sigh, staring out into the mass of people. The smell of freshly cooked food he couldn’t afford wafted through the air and the shouts of merchants hoping to sell their wares filled the marketplace with an ever-present buzz. Gamzee waded into the crowd, slipping between other customers, eyebrows furrowed as he navigated his way towards the stall where he currently worked.

He sauntered up to a stall manned by a burly seadweller, crates stacked up to create a sort of makeshift counter, even more crates filled the space behind it and bottles filled much of any remaining empty space.

"Hey, bro," he said, slapping a hand atop one of the wooden crates that made up the vendor's counter, displacing a small pile of copper coins. The seadwelling troll behind the 'counter' flared his fins and let out an irritated breath as he looked at the toppled pile and then begrudgingly up at the troll standing with a vacant smile still plastered over his features.

"You're late, Makara," the gruff voice came, lacking the lilting accent characteristic of most seadwellers as he moved to daintily pile the coins back up. Surprised, Gamzee looked towards the sky, trying to judge the time. He had been sure that he’d arrived on time.

"Sorry," he said, looking back to the seadweller with a frown. "Didn't up and think it was so late?" Really, he was earlier than expected, but the seadweller would use any reason to pay Gamzee less than he owed.

"Whatever," he grumbled, rolling his eyes as he settled the pile back together. He turned around and bent down, picking up three bottles of wine and placing them on the counter. "This is a delivery to the temple. Make sure they make it there." The seadweller’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Gamzee slip each of the bottles in turn and slip them into his bag.

Gamzee turned back to him with a wide smile, "Yussir!"

"Well hurry back, I've got other things I need you to do today, Makara," he snapped, turning back his attention from Gamzee to a passing rustblood, “Fine wines! Only the best!” He shouted, dismissing Gamzee for his errand.

Gamzee turned with a light frown at his less than genial dismissal and headed off through the market towards the road to the temple. He may not particularly like his employer, but his job kept him fed, off the streets, and with a leaky roof over his head.

The walk to the temple wound through the town out to the very edges. Gamzee kept up a brisk pace as he made his way through the city streets towards less populated areas. The trip always took ages, even in a hurry it took Gamzee thirty minutes to arrive. Luckily, he arrived early enough that the masses of people hadn’t yet crowded the entrance to the temple, though a few monks wandered the open space. Gamzee spotted one easily and made his way up to her, a smile spreading his features as he approached her.

He cleared his throat to catch her attention and began pulling one fo the wine bottles out of the satchel at his hip, “Pardon me, sister, but I up an’ got a delivery for you?”

She glanced up at him and smiled, “Of course.”

He handed the three bottles over to her, “I hate to be a bother, but would it be any sort a’ issue if a brother stayed a while?” He paused before speaking up again, “To pray, I mean!”

“You’re welcome to stay.”

Gamzee grinned at her and lowered his head in something just shy of a bow before turning towards the statues of the gods lining the temple. One step at a time, Gamzee slowly walked down through the temple between the six gods.

The statues were old, massive and majestic, smoothed out and worn where they once must have been sharp. They stood against the walls, three on each side of a large room, different offerings and incense at their feet. Time stood facing the Mother, beside her was the Wind, across from him stood Thought, and finally at the back stood the Law and the Shield.

Of course, Gamzee bowed to each figure, thanking them silently for what they've done for him in life, though when he found himself staring up at the stony face of the Shield, he stopped. The Shield of the People always held favor in his pusher, something that churned his stomach with guilt; all the gods deserved to be loved equally, none more than another. He never could bring himself to care for any more than he did the Shield though.

He knelt on the stone floor at the Shield's feet, murmuring his thanks aloud, asking, _praying_ that the Shield aid those little brothers and sisters on the street with no food in their bellies or homes to sleep. His knuckles appeared almost white under his skin where it stretched too thin, his figure too frail, his collar bones stark and pronounced beneath the skin covered by draped filthy fabric. When his eyes opened again they gazed up at the sight of The Shield. The stone carved into a strict, steadfast expression, eyes downcast, almost closed and gazing down at whoever rested at his feet. They say that the Shield has the blood of a human and the skin of a troll. A patron for all people of either race.

 

Slowly, as if by accident, Gamzee arose from his position crouched at the feet of The Shield, staring up at the smooth stone idol, daring to hope that perhaps his prayer had been answered. Believing with all his being that he would return to a street with drier children with fuller stomachs. He turned from the statue finally, picking up his satchel as he made his way out of the temple and back into the cool morning air. His steps seemed lighter and his spirit freer, even as he marched his way back towards the market where he would no doubt be given more errands to run for his employer.

He passed by others travelling to the temple, greeting each one with a smile, certain that the joyous air that seemed to have settled into his bones was the result of the gods watching over his footsteps. The return from the temple seemed to pass by quickly, likely a result of his heightened mood, and he found himself back in front of the makeshift counter of the seadweller selling his wines.

“Took you long enough,” grumbled the seadweller as he slid a bottle of wine across the surface to a customer who dropped five coins atop the crate in return, “You deliver all four of ‘em?”

“Uh,” Gamzee paused and furrowed his eyebrows in thought a moment, reaching down to open up his satchel and check to see whether there was a fourth bottle that he’d left there. Upon finding no such bottle, Gamzee spoke up, “Nah, there were only three bottles up an’ clinkin' around in the bag, sir. Didn't see no fourth one.”

The seadweller froze for only a split-second, though the moment seemed to drag on much longer than that before he turned to Gamzee, “What do you _mean_ you didn’t deliver all the merchandise! You saying you _lost_ it, Makara?” He let out a laugh that most certainly did not seem motivated by anything of the funny or pleasant sort, in fact it grated in a way that was downright mean, “For all _I_ know, you’ve gone off and drank the whole lot!”

Gamzee opened his mouth, stuttering out a short “I didn’t-” before instead flinching back as one of the seadwellers rough palms clapped him over his left horn and he made a sharp shout. This wasn’t the first time he’d been clocked for being stupid and he should have expected the blow, but the hit still rang in his ears and ached down all the way into his skull.

While his ears continued to ring, little mutated fins flipping back and forth in disorientation, the seadweller seemed to keep shouting at him, at least that’s what it _looked_ like judging by the way his lips moved and his face contorted all angry-like and went purple in his cheeks up into his fins. As his hearing began to properly return Gamzee tried to focus in on the words.

“⎼have you dragged off for thievery! Just as worthless as the rest of the scum from the slums. If I see your face around this stall again I’ll give you worse than a clap on the horns, you hear me, you pan-dead idiot!?”

Gamzee’s eyes widened and he shrunk under the barrage of insults flying his way before shouldering his bag and ducking away from the stall with no pay, hurrying from the marketplace until he reached the street around it. He hung his head, eyes downcast at his bare, dust-covered feet as he began to slink his way back towards his little hovel.

His earlier uplifted mood dissipated entirely and he dragged himself through the continuously worsening streets, past the beggars and hookers and hungry children, avoiding eye contact with those around him. His mind wandered; how would he manage to feed himself in the coming weeks? He could try to sell his hovel, but that would only fix one problem and bring another. He would have to find a new job, though it’d taken him perigees to get the one he’d just lost and he wasn’t keen on begging again.

At least for now he had a home he could return to. His feet knew the path back to his shack and returned him him home one their own. It was by letting his feet lead him that he found himself walking right into a jadeblood troll with an arm full of beautiful red pottery. She let out a sharp startled squeak as she nearly dropped one of her pots.

“Shit sorry, sister,” Gamzee muttered, jumping as if to catch the pot in the case that it did fall out of her arms.

She shook her head, righting her burden in her arms, “It’s fine, it’s fine don’t worry about it.” She glanced around briefly, eyebrows furrowed and turned around towards the way she’d come with careful almost timid steps. Long black ink twisted up her arms, wrapping around up the back of her neck and into her scalp where short hair grew, short enough that it might have been shaved a few weeks ago. Her horns swept back very close to her scalp before curling just slightly down towards her ears.

Gamzee tipped his head and knitted his eyebrows together, “You lost, sister?” This wasn’t exactly the best part of town to get turned around in.

“What?” She raised her eyebrows and turned towards him, “Oh. A little. I’m supposed to take these to the eastern residential district?”

“Well you sure found the eastern residential district but I’m pretty fuckin’ sure this ain’t quite the area ‘f it a motherfucker’s lookin’ for. Where you headed specifically?”

She shifted her wares to support them against her right hip as her left hand pulled a slip of paper from one of the pots, “Says I’m supposed to take Copper road all the way up to Main street?” Her eyes glanced briefly between Gamzee and the slip of paper, “This is Copper, right?”

A brief laugh bubbled up in Gamzee’s throat, even if this really wasn’t a funny situation, “Nah sister, this ain’t been Copper for almost seven blocks now. This area don’t even got proper street names. You took the sneaky turn what creeps up on a motherfucker an’ looks mostly straight. Head back to where the road forks an’ head the other way, that’ll take you up all the way to Main.” Gamzee briefly glanced at the number of precariously balanced pots she held in her arms, “If a motherfucker up an’ needs a little help I’m not real busy, looks like you got your hands pretty motherfuckin’ full.”

She glanced nervously around the streets, shifting her weight to get a better grip on her pots and jars, “That would actually be fantastic. They’re not too heavy, just a bit awkward to carry.”

Gamzee nodded, “I up an’ got my motherfuckin’ understandin’ on to a sister. Here I’ll take a couple an’ walk ya up there.”

The jadeblood carefully picked up the top three pots one at a time, handing them off to Gamzee who stacked them up in his arms and cradled them to his chest before starting to set off down the street next to her.

“Thank you so much for the help, I started to get worried when the road started getting twisty.”

Gamzee shook his head with a pleased smile, “Ain’t a motherfuckin’ thing, sister. That turn sneaks up on a lot a’ fuckers an’ sends ‘em down this way.”

“It definitely caught me by surprise. I’m Pyxids by the way. You got a name?” She glanced up at him as they made their way back towards where Copper forked off into this unnamed street.

“Gamzee. It’s real nice t’up an’ meet a motherfucker, Pyx-sis.”

She smiled fondly at the nickname he issued her, “Nice to meet you Gamzee.”

It wasn’t long before they made it back to where the road forked and he walked her up to main street where she then led them towards a particular building that stood not too far up the street. Gamzee hunched his shoulders just slightly over the clay wares he carried in his arms, all too aware of the eyes of those who saw him and shook their heads or scoffed in disgust, certain that he didn’t belong in a neighborhood this nice.

Gamzee kept his eyes on the ground as he followed Pyxids up to the door of a particularly nice building, and she reached up with one hand and knocked on the door, waiting until a little blueblood opened the door, almost a good solid foot shorter than Gamzee, even when counting the blueblood’s horns.

“I’ve brought the pots Seliak ordered,” Pyxids said as she began setting down the pots in the doorway.

“Oh excellent!” Exclaimed the blueblood, “Just a moment and I’ll fetch your payment.” He glanced Gamzee up and down briefly, eyes lingering a moment on his bare, filthy feet before scurrying off into the house and returning with a small cloth holding what Gamzee assumed by the jangling that came from the palms of the blueblood’s hands to be a fair sum of coins. The blueblood handed the coins to Pyxids and began taking the pots that she had set down. Only then did Gamzee remember himself and begin to set down the pots he had also carried, handing them off to the blueblood who took them inside the house.

A short “good day!” and a door in their face marked the end of the transaction and Gamzee turned with a lopsided smile to Pyxids who still held the coins in her hand, doing a quick count to be sure she hadn’t been stiffed.

“Alright then.” She glanced up at Gamzee once she was satisfied that she had been given _all_ of her due payment, “I should really get back to the shop, it’s been unmanned for a couple hours now.” She counted out three of the coins from the pile and offered them to Gamzee.

“Shit, sister, you ain’t gotta do that. ‘S just a favor, jus’ the nice thing to do.” Gamzee shook his head and took a step back. He did need the money, but he couldn’t just take it from someone for just helping out a little.

“Nonsense! You likely kept me from being mugged, go on.” She waved her hand with the coins in it at him.

Begrudgingly, Gamzee reached out his hand and she poured the coins into it, placing the rest into a pouch at her hip, “I really must thank you again for helping me. If you’re ever in the market district up towards Poplar, feel free to drop by.”

Gamzee smiled and nodded, “If I’m ever there I’ll be sure to drop in an’ say hi. I’m up there all the...-” He trailed off with a frown as he recalled that he didn’t work in the market district anymore, “Or well… I used to be there all the time ‘fore Hydrus up an’ fired me.” He paused a moment before shaking his head, “A motherfucker can up an’ make a trip though!”

When Gamzee looked back up at Pyxids again her face had fallen, concern written over it, “You were fired?”

“Ain’t a thing, it’s fine, I’ll figure somethin’ out.”

“If you need a job, I’ve been needing some help around the shop for a while. If you’d be willing to run deliveries like this that would be fantastic, I hate having to leave the shop unattended.”

Gamzee silently praised the Gods, “Well shit, that’s a thing I most certainly can motherfuckin’ do.”

Pyxids beamed at him, “Excellent! When can you start?’

“Whenever you’re up an’ needin’ a brother. I haven’t got anythin’ to be doin’ any time soon.”

She clapped her hands together with a wide grin and nodded, “Excellent, we can get started right away, then! I don’t know what your skill level with pottery is, but I might need your help with some other things as well.”

As Gamzee followed her down the street, he recalled kneeling at the feet of The Shield and that joy that seemed to have filled his very soul as he left the temple. Under his breath he muttered a thanks for watching over him and fell into step next to Pyxids.

* * *

With a lightness in his soul and gratitude in his heart Gamzee returned home at the end of the day. His bones creaked with their usual exhaustion, but he couldn’t help how very blessed he felt, all the way from the very tips of his horns down into the soles of his feet. He returned to his hovel, greeted once again with the sight of his sparse furnishings and ants crawling over what little bread remained at the table.

The whole building seemed to sigh as he turned and hung his satchel on the hook beside the doorway. He turned back to gaze over the place, quietly content as he made his way to the table to brush away ants from his food and then promptly finish off the bread. At least now he had the money to pay for more food tomorrow at the market.

Gamzee closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and whispering soft thanks to the Gods who blessed him with this roof over his head and this food in his stomach. With that, Gamzee lumbered towards his shoddy makeshift bed, laying down in it and relaxing, preparing to sleep for the night, curling up in an attempt to keep himself warm in the face of the drafts that left him shivering most nights.

He laid asleep when the cold wind seeping into his home slowed almost to a stop, and this night Gamzee did not shiver and shake with a chill he often felt down into his bones. Instead he dreamt of shields and warmth and protection and all manner of wondrous things he would forget upon waking, the only lasting impression being a sense of peace and security upon waking and the distinct memory of bright red.

* * *

_Above the scrabbling of mortals, or perhaps removed from it entirely, red eyes watched over images flickering in of a pool of water, eyes hundreds of years old, and yet not aged a day past ten sweeps. Orange claws curled delicately around the lips of a shallow dish of water before reaching in to just barely skim over it. Upon the rippling surface of the water flashed images of bright red, shields, arms hugged tight around a gangly purpleblood troll with long twisted horns._


	2. Pilgrimage

For a whole week now Gamzee had worked for Pyxids, finally able to pay rent on the sad shack he inhabited without fearing he might starve for the next week. Even after only working for her a week Gamzee managed to begin saving his earnings so that maybe one day he might own a proper home rather than renting one.

A week of his new job which kept him fed, housed, and happy and Gamzee now found himself faced with a day off.

He stood a moment at the entrance to the temple, breathing in the crisp morning air before entering slowly, placing one bare foot after another down on the cold stone of the steps leading up to the temple. With his head bowed, Gamzee made his way up to each of the statues, taking a moment to kneel at their feet and thank each deity for watching over the people of this planet.

Soon his eyes gazed up at the stone face of The Shield before lowering to bow his head as he knelt  on the floor at his feet, eyes closed and mumbling reverent prayer with hands clasped before him. Thanks for watching over him, allowing him the privilege of a roof over his head and food in his stomach and clothes on his back. Thanks for a job and an employer who treated him well. Quiet pleas that the children who lived on his street would find food and a safe, warm place to sleep for the night.

Gamzee had just raised his head and been about to stand when he found himself staring up at nothing, eyes blown wide with disorientation as images flashed across his vision.

Wet clay caked over Pyxids’s painted hands. Bright red bleeding into the morning sky. An outstretched hand that appeared all too familiar and Gamzee reached up as if to take this outstretched hand, mouth formed around the beginnings of a name that seemed to dance just on the tip of his tongue, “Ka-” and then as soon as it had begun the world flickered back into his vision around him.

He blinked at himself, noting his hand that now reached up towards the statue before him and he stared up at the statue of the Shield before him. The outstretched hand quickly returned to his lap and he blinked his eyes as if to clear a haze from them.

“The fuck?” He mumbled to himself, face hardened in scrutiny as he began to rise to his feet. His gaze remained over the statue’s face as he rose, trying to discern what had just happened and shown over his vision. A moment passed and a soft breeze ran through his hair. His eyes fell shut a moment before blinking open once more and he turned towards the entrance of the temple, staring out into the open air and he let his feet guide him back to the outside world.

With one last glance at the statue and a lazy fond smile plastered over his features, Gamzee began the walk back home, his vision haunting him as he wove through the city streets back towards his hovel. Perhaps haunted wasn't the right word. He lingered on the hand outstretched to him and the bright red of The Shield and Pyxids’s hands all covered in clay. More than that though he lingered on the baffling familiarity of the fantastic and holy sights laid before him, on the way he'd tried to speak a name that had seemed perched right on the tip of his tongue as he reached up towards the God of the People.

Surely someone was watching over him.

His dusty feet tread over the street as it slowly changed from something paved with stone to dirt and he hummed to himself as he wandered through the slums towards his own home. When a little human boy came running up to him, tugging on his tattered clothes he felt his pusher ache in his chest. He had money back in his home, but not with him.

He shook his head, “Sorry little brother, try me again tomorrow.”

For too many children on this street tomorrow could sometimes be too late. Being maybe six and lususless was a trouble he'd known all too well. Bare feet and begging passersby for anything. Food, clothes, coin. The “where’s your lusus?”s and his constant response, “He’ll be back any day now!” Hasn’t seen the old goat in almost a decade now.

He pulled the cloth in the doorway to his hovel aside and ducked in, the sun slowly dropping down below the horizon behind him, filtering warm light in where fabric couldn’t keep the world out. Gamzee sighed and dropped onto his pile and stared out towards the slowly vanishing sunlight. At the sight though of his remaining food sitting on the table maybe five feet from him, he immediately regretted sitting down, now he wasn’t sure he could pick himself back up, even just to eat.

It took him a moment of debate before he took a deep breath and hoisted himself to his feet, shuffling over towards the table to finish off what remained of his bread from a few days ago, leaning against the wall as he ate, slowly. If he ate slow enough he could convince himself that he was full by the time he’d finished rather than acknowledging the hunger still sitting in his gut. He may be able to afford better now, but if he wanted to have back up funds he needed to stay on a meager diet.

So it was that Gamzee laid back down in his pile, huddled up around himself and curled up to sleep until the morning. He hugged his arms around himself as the last rays of sun disappeared and he was left cold once more, drifting off to sleep with thoughts of his vision occupying his thoughts.

He fell into dreams once more, dreams that seemed to come from somewhere besides his own thoughts, memories that weren’t his own filling his head. Images of figures from the legends of the gods, one who helped strike down an enormous monster with skin like an oil slick. Flashes of one recurring hero, one who did not ascend to godhood, one who had to be struck down. Stories he’d heard passed down by older trolls, by the monks in the temple, all dreamt in vivid detail as if he were living them himself. As if fighting alongside them, watching the Shield, The Law, The Mother as they fought tooth and nail for the safety of this world.

And then the dream seemed to shift around him. The world around him became alien, yet so familiar, image flickering in and out of focus, as if reflecting in rippling water, distorting the memory. He saw himself, that much he knew for sure, himself in clothes too tight and fitted, as if from hundreds of thousands of years in the future, surrounded by things he didn’t understand with a small troll in his arms. He couldn’t see exactly what was happening, but a warmth permeated the vision and a sense of safety and love and warmth.

When he woke, he came to slowly, breathing deeply as the crisp morning air greeted him and for a moment he lay there staring up at the ceiling, piecing together the fragments of his dream he could remember. The way he’d seen so many stories, all surrounding a hero from the old tales, a hero who perished. The way he’d felt so warm, so loved, the way he couldn’t tell what exactly happened, but that there was someone who cared for him, cared deeply, even though he had never seen this memory before in his whole life.

He rose slowly, sitting up and moving to kneel on the dirt floor, clasping his hands together and breathing out a prayer of thanks to the Gods. For someone there was clearly reaching out to him and watching over him, and for that he was eternally grateful.

“Thank you. Dunno what I’ve ever done t’deserve a blessin’ like this, but I’m real motherfuckin’ grateful for it.”

* * *

 

_“You can’t go getting attached to him, you know? He’s mortal.”_

_“I know. I owe him though.”_

_“Karkat, you don’t owe him anything. Not this iteration of him, not any.”_

_“He should have been here with us.”_

_“And then where would we be? With a murderclown for a God? Excuse me if I’m not convinced mister cherry-candy. It’s better this way. Just stop peeking in on him, it’s just gonna fuck with you.”_

_“He needed help.”_

_“Everyone needs help. You can’t go favoring one person because you’re waxing pale for him again.”_

_He turned to glare at her, “Tell me you wouldn’t help if you found Vriska again. Tell me that if she were hurting or lost you wouldn’t do your damnedest to help her to her feet.”_

_“Maybe I would, but I wouldn’t go chasing after her like a pity-struck wriggler.”_

_“Come on, he’s the first one we’ve seen from the old world. Even you have to admit you’re curious about how this is gonna go. Look at him! He’s living in a_ shack _. Tell me you don’t feel a little bad for him.”_

_“I don’t feel a little bad for him. If you wanna whine about it, go find Kanaya.”_

_“Maybe I will.”_

_Terezi turned to leave before stopping and sighing, “I know this is hard for you, but you need to let go. You have more important duties than to check in on your crazy, dead-no-more,  ex-moirail.”_

_His eyes returned to the reflection of Gamzee curled up and sleeping in the surface of the water, “He doesn’t deserve this. We did this to him.”_

* * *

 

The weeks following his first vision became frought with more. Gamzee found himself seeing incredible things, that same hero fighting through trials and his ultimate demise, flashes of that alien place, seeing himself and a smaller troll, one with horns like The Shield’s and who always felt hot as the sun. He found himself pondering what the Gods could possibly be trying to tell him, how he could fulfill whatever purpose they had set out for him.

For three weeks he simply continued to work, pondering outloud as he would run deliveries for Pyxids, bring her tools she needed whilst she worked her pots, man the counter while she couldn’t. He would mumble to himself phrases he’d heard in these visions words that came through whenever he would see that alien place that always came through so fuzzy. Words that made no sense like Skaia and sgrub and The Medium.

With visions following him wherever he went Gamzee wondered what it was that he was meant to make of them, what he was meant to do in response to them. It wasn’t until last night that he found himself staring over fantastical lands in his dreams. Lands filled with all manner of things, sugar and blood and creatures that appeared unreal and fantastic.

With a start Gamzee sat up, eyes wide as he found himself staring at the wall, piecing together what he could of his dream, the lands that appeared from somewhere far off, these flickering uncertain images of himself, the knight guiding him. He took a deep breath and sat up straight, letting it go and rising to his feet, steeled and with a certain purpose. He pulled his bag from its hook by the door, hoisting it over his shoulder, picking up the food that remained on his table, shoving it into the bag. He hurried over to his cloth pile, folding up the fabrics he liked best and nestling them into the satchel as well, he pulled the rest of the pile away to retrieve the money he’d been saving over the last several weeks, dropping the coins into his bag as well.

He raised himself to a standing position, horns nearly scraping the roof of his shack and he made his way out of the hovel.

Pyxids sat hunched over her pottery as he knocked on the doorframe opening up into the store, “Pixie?” He shouldered his bag as he walked up to her.

She lifted her head and turned to look at him, “Gamzee! Morning, you’re a little early.”

He chuckled sheepishly and shrugged, “Well I uh… I got some news for ya.”

“Not bad news I hope!”

“Well. I mean it ain’t bad per se, but I still ain’t sure if a motherfucker’s gonna up an’ like it or not.” His lips turned down in a frown just briefly and he chewed on his lip, “See a brother’s gonna be up an’ leavin’ the city today I think. An’ I had ta come by an’ let you know. Can’t jus’ stop showin’ up for work an’ shit.”

Pyxids turned bodily from her work, letting her wheel slow to a stop, “You’re not in trouble or anything are you?”

He blinked, “What? Nah, no a’ course not, sister. Jus’...” He paused a moment in thought, “Gods’re up an’ sendin’ me somewhere else. I can feel it. They want me t’leave, find somewhere I ain’t ever seen before. Showed me an’ everythin’. Jus’ gonna let ‘em take me where I gotta go.”

She stared at him for a few moments in silence and Gamzee began to wonder at whether she could be angry with him for leaving until she smiled and sighed, shaking her head, “I can’t say that I’m glad you’ll be gone, but I can’t blame you for following the path laid out for you. Be safe, you hear me?”

Gamzee grinned vacantly, “A’ course, I got the Gods guidin’ my steps. I’ll be alright. Promise.”

Pyxids laughed and nodded, “Good. Do you need anything before you leave? Do you have anything to carry water in? I’m sure I have a waterskin around here. I hardly use it.” She wiped away clay from her hands and made her way behind the counter with furrowed eyebrows, digging around.

“Shit sister, you don’t gotta do that.”

She shook her head, “Really it would make me feel better.” She popped back up from behind the counter once more and offered him a waterskin, “Here, take it and be safe. I’ll miss having you around, Gamzee. If you’re ever back here again come visit, alright? You’re always welcome here.”

He grinned and took the skin, “Appreciate that a whole lot. You been real kind to a motherfucker.”

“See you around then,” She nodded to him and went to return to her wheel.

He laughed, “Maybe!”

With that Gamzee turned and left the shop. Only a few loose ends remained for him to tie up. Paying his landlord, giving some of his spare coin to some of the kids on the street, and then returning to the market to buy food for his journey. His last stop he found himself at the temple once more. He made his way from each statue to the next, kneeling, bowing his head, and whispering a prayer until he reached the back where he knelt at the feet of the Shield, taking a deep breath as he looked up at the statue, mumbling softly to himself, “Somethin’ about your face, brother.”

Gamzee lowered his head and braced his forearms on the floor in front of him, clasping his hands together and mumbling to the heavens and the air around him, “I don’t know why you chose me, but I am so fuckin’ grateful for all you’ve done for me an’ for every person you up an’ protected. I ain’t really all that good with words an’ that noise, but I’m gonna do my best t’be all fuckin’ formal about this. I see where you want me t’go an’ I’ll let you guide my feet where you’re sendin’ me.” He bowed his head once more and whispered a soft reverent “Thank you” before picking up his bag, opening it, retrieving the bread, nearly stale that he’d brought from his hovel and he set it at the feet of the Shield. He strapped his bag shut once more and then rose to his feet, taking a deep breath, picking up the satchel and then turning out towards the world he intended to journey through with his feet bare and his eyes open.

* * *

 

_“Now you’ve done it, just what the fuck do you think you’re you doing!?”_

_“I didn’t-”_

_“I told you fucking with him was a_ bad _idea, Karkat!”_

 _“I’m afraid I’ll have to agree with Terezi on this one. You can’t just- He’s going to get himself_ killed _._ ”

_“He’ll be fine, I can fix this, a little spiritual journey isn’t gonna kill him. I’ll- I’ll figure something out, I swear I will.”_

_“He doesn’t even have shoes. He doesn’t even have fucking shoes and he’s just gonna walk wherever the fuck you tell him to. You have no plan for this and you can’t just send him a vision like “Oh shit that’s not what I actually wanted you to do!” You’re a fucking moron, you know that?”_

_Karkat gritted his teeth and stood up from where he sat hunched over a shallow dish of water, “You didn’t seem to care about his well-being before! Calm down I’ll figure this out on my own. I don’t need you grub-sitting me. What’s the worst he’s gonna do? Sit and meditate himself to death? He’s not exactly murder-clown material anymore! Hell he’s not even an alcoholic in this universe and he seems to be doing just fucking fine!”_

_“Karkat,” Kanaya chewed her lip and glanced down at her feet, “We’re just… concerned that your- well your_ toying _with him like this might… well it might set him off.”_

_His eyes met hers for a moment and he glared pointedly, “He’s. Going. To be. Fine.”_

_“Sure he is,” Terezi scoffed, “Have you considered that people might think he’s crazy if he ever talks about the various pan-fuckery you’ve been inflicting on him?”_

_“People aren’t going to think that, not in this time period.”_

_Terezi sighed and ran her hands through her hair, “I can’t deal with this.”_

_“Well good! I don’t want you to!”_

_Kanaya rubbed her fingers at her eyes, “Karkat, we’re just concerned, please at least handle this matter delicately would you?”_

_Karkat took a deep breath in before letting it out, reaching up to run his hands over his face and nodding slowly, speaking softer now, “I’ll be careful. I’ve… I’ve got this.”_

_A cool hand rubbed over his shoulder and he relaxed just the slightest bit when it slid away alongside its host as she returned to her own dish. Karkat returned his attention to the surface of the water, taking one slow deep breath and then nodding to himself, “I’ll fix this. I’ve got this.”_

* * *

 

Gamzee let his feet take him where they would, leading him down trails and paths that took him from the city he’d lived in for the majority of his life, away from the sea where he used to once wait for his lusus and into the land north, his bare feet treading over earth as they led him up through the world. His eyes stared always around, wide open and leisurely searching for something, something he would know when he saw it, something he wasn’t even sure he knew how to find.

He walked and walked, uncertain of where he was going, but going nonetheless. For the first few days he had food and water and he counted himself lucky that it didn’t rain. When he did eventually find himself without food, he began to search the world around him for anything he could eat, and as if by divine intervention food found its way to him. Plants, small animals, fruits hanging low on trees. Even traveling so light Gamzee never found himself hungry. When he slept The Shield returned to him in his dreams, showing him things, things that flickered in and out from a world he’d never seen before.

For a week and a half Gamzee wandered like this, and then the rain came pouring down, mud seeping up between his toes as he walked through it, letting the water seep into his hair. He wandered through the mud in search of somewhere he might take shelter.

Through the haze of the rain, not far off the path a cave beckoned. Gamzee grinned widely and ran through the mud towards the cave, sending up a prayer of thanks as he ducked into it, breathing in the smell of rotting leaves and the rain on the dirt, curling up in the back of the cave and settling into it. He pulled his bag and wet clothes off, setting them down to dry as he dug through his satchel for the cloth he’d brought from his hovel, placing one on the ground to place a thin layer between himself and the cold stone. The other he tied up around himself in place of his wet sheet he’d been dressed in.

Now mostly dry, Gamzee sighed. There would be little way to start a fire with everything drenched by the rain so he instead began to acquaint himself with the cave, feeling along the walls with a soft smile, settling into his home for the night when near the mouth of the cave he found a symbol scratched into the wall. A sort of ‘V’ shape, curved on either end. His fingers traced over the edges of the symbol and there was a familiarity to it and a certainty that filled him. A certainty that this was what he was looking for, that this was a place he was meant to be.

He breathed a sigh and closed his eyes, a vacant smile gracing his features as he sat himself down next to this symbol, tracing it over and over and then pulling his hand away from it, as if he might tarnish it by rubbing his fingers over it too long. He sat himself cross-legged before the symbol, eyebrows furrowed as he slowed his breathing and let the sense of purpose this place gave him permeate his whole being, fill him to the brim.

This was nothing like the visions The Shield sent him.

Bright and clear and felt down into his very soul he saw so many things, a world of all trolls, an enthusiasm for life, for everything, and with a sharp betrayal numbness seemed to encompass everything. Then in vivid detail a self splintered into the thousands, everywhere, and then a girl resurrected a god and that same vivacity returned, an excitement for death and life all the same.

Gamzee gasped for air when he came to again and his eyes flew wide open as he tried to parse what he’d seen, as if he’d lived an entire life not his own, as if he’d dreamt an entire life and woken to find himself the same as he’d always been.

His eyes stared straight ahead and he gripped his hands into the grass.

Grass?

He blinked and curled his fingers in the grass and raised his head to find himself somewhere entirely foreign. A garden. A garden where he sat with his hands clutched in the grass, surrounded by a set of six small pavilions and behind him a larger open building. He blinked, shaking his head, utterly disoriented and he rose from his sitting position, standing and turning about the garden, letting his feet walk him over the grass that pushed up soft between his toes, softer and greener than anything he’d seen before. He found himself approaching one of the pavilions and clearing his throat, “Hello?”

A figure hunched over a dish turned suddenly as if startled, bright red eyes like the blood of a human.

Gamzee dropped to his knees and braced his forearms on the ground before him, clasping his hands together in prayer: for there before him stood the Shield of The People.


	3. Communion

The Shield stared down at the troll now bowing at his feet and his eyes widened, speechless for the whole of nearly ten seconds as he stared down at him. This shouldn’t be possible. It just plain shouldn’t. Maybe there was something they’d overlooked, after all, Gamzee _had_ been a player in the Game; perhaps he got benefits because of it.

Then as soon as the moment passed that he tried to process the fact that Gamzee was here at all he sputtered, “Get up, you don’t have to bow to me I’m not gonna smite you because you don’t fucking bow, that’s not how this whole thing works.”

With that Gamzee scrambled to his feet and rubbed at the back of his head sheepishly, eyes darting up to meet the God's own and then looking away once more, seemingly unable to find a place that he ought to leave them, "Sorry broth- I mean- Uh-" He floundered a moment, in search of a word that would befit a literal God, "Sorry, uh, jus' ain't all up an' sure a’ what a brother oughta do when he up an' meets a God what's been guidin' him."

Another moment passed that The Shield stared back at him, also unsure of what he ought to do now that Gamzee stood here in the flesh apparently. Although...

With one hand outstretched, he made his way slowly towards Gamzee, eyebrows furrowed together as he reached out one palm to Gamzee's cheek, cupping it in his palm and stroking his thumb slowly over his cold cheek, "How..." He just stared for a few moments, "How is this even possible. I didn't- We don't really- We're not even accessible from anywhere."

Gamzee tilted his head down and frowned at his feet, "Didn't up an' mean t'break no rules or nothin'. Jus' sat in a cave an' meditated a bit, felt right an' shit an' now I'm here. Thought a brother what's immortal an' shit'd know what's goin' on."

The Shield shook his head almost dazedly, eyebrows furrowed together as he reached his other hand up as well to cup Gamzee's cheeks in his hands, "This is the first time something like this has happened. And frankly I have no fucking clue what's going on, but my god it's good to see you." He let his hands drift back down from his face down to his shoulders, squeezing at them, pushing his thumbs into them as if to test whether they were really there or not before moving to hug Gamzee to him.

"I-" Gamzee started, eyes widened a moment as a God hugged around his waist. He'd expected the Shield to be taller than himself, but in reality Gamzee stood maybe a few inches taller than him. Slowly he lowered his arms to hold around the shoulders of a god, "Is uh... Is there somethin' a motherfucker oughta call you?"

"Karkat," Said the god, slow like, "Call me Karkat, and don't worry about being formal or any of that shit, it's been a long fucking time since I've seen you last."

"You mean watchin' over me like you been doin' 'cause it feels like you been there the whole time."

This Karkat shook his head and slowly released Gamzee from his arms, "No no, I mean- Fuck I mean it's been centuries since I saw you last." And for a moment something flashed in his eyes that seemed so very old and so very... sad.

"Brother I'm sure I ain't ever seen you in the flesh all real like this shit we got goin' on right now. An' I'm pretty fuckin' sure I'd remember some shit like this. Meetin' a god ain't somethin' I think I'd forget real fuckin' easily."

Karkat snorted out loud and took a deep breath, chewing at the inside of his cheek, "No you wouldn't remember, it was-" He trailed off and furrowed his eyebrows, "It's a lot to explain and I'm not sure if we have a time limit on how long you're here for."

For the first time Gamzee began to consider whether he even could return to the cave, how he got here, where "here" even was, "Shit, I don't know either." He furrowed his eyebrows and turned to look around the garden, "What even is this place? 'S fuckin' beautiful, brother."

Karkat came up beside him and sighed, "We don't really know ourselves if we're being honest. It's the garden. It's where we live. My theory personally is that it's... It's like the veil. Do you know what the veil is?"

Karkat turned to Gamzee, searching his eyes for some sort of recognition and found none there when Gamzee shook his head.

"I mean asides from a piece a' real thin' piece a' fabric, but I'm not real sure that's what a motherfucker's all up an' gettin' his meanin' onto."

"It's... well it was a realm in a different world that was removed entirely from another one. It's hard to explain to somebody who didn't have a common knowledge of-" Karkat broke off and frowned, seemingly lost for a moment, "God this is hard to explain."

Gamzee snickered a moment, "Funny how y'all up here curse by yourselves."

Karkat blinked and stared at Gamzee for a moment before snickering and shaking his head, rubbing his hands at his eyes, "Of course you'd notice something dumb like that. Of fucking course." He ran his claws through his hair and sighed quietly, shaking his head and grinning widely, showing off a set of teeth much flatter than even the majority of lowbloods.

"Well I mean, it jus'... it seems funny, y'all sayin' shit like "Wow by myself this is fuckin' funny” an' shit like that."

"You're a dumbass," Karkat shook his head with a fond smile.

Gamzee mumbled out a quick apology, ducking his head at the chastisement and then blinked as a hand reached up and patted him right on the shoulder and he glanced over at the God.

"Don't worry about it, I just mean- I didn't mean you're stupid I just- It's-" He tried to find some way to explain how he found Gamzee's fascination with the simple things in life so fucking endearing, and floundered before instead settling on, "Sorry shouldn't have called you that, that's my bad."

Gamzee shook his head and seemed to relax just the slightest bit, "Ain't a motherfuckin' thing. Not like I don't get called that shit all the fuckin' time."

Karkat nodded his head and found himself lost in thought once more, staring up at Gamzee's face and letting his eyes track down over the rest of his body before he sighed quietly, meeting Gamzee's eyes once more, "You really don't remember anything? Nothing at all?"

Confusion spelled itself across Gamzee's face clear and unmistakeable, for a moment he just tried to track through his memories for what the God might mean, "Remember bein' fuckin' little an' livin' right on the beach, an' Goatdad up an' gettin' his skiddaddle on for weeks an' comin' back only a few times. Remember movin' into the city when he didn't come back for so fuckin' long... Remember gettin' jobs an' shit, not sure what a motherfucker's hopin' for me to up an' get my rememberin' onto."

Karkat let out a long sigh and moved to sit down on the steps of the pavilion and Gamzee followed along behind him, hanging his head, certain that he'd done something wrong, "Sorry if I up an' upset you, Karkat." The name felt so familiar and odd on his tongue. Like there should be somewhere he remembers it from, but it's simply disappeared into thin air.

Karkat shook his head, "No no, it's- you're fine, I was just hoping that maybe-" Karkat glanced up at Gamzee and searched his face long and hard for a moment before speaking up again, "We knew each other a very very long time ago. Centuries ago."

Gamzee furrowed his eyebrows and seated himself next to him, "I don't up an' remember ever bein' fuckin' alive hundreds a' years ago."

"It was-" He chewed at his lips, searching for the right words, "It was a different world than this one. You’ve- You’ve existed before this. It’s kind of hard to explain now that you don’t remember any of it, but we- This isn’t the first universe we’ve lived in. We lived in a different world before this one. Actually this world is the product of two previous ones which is why we have this whole human-troll shitfest combo on this world and-” Karkat glanced up at Gamzee and furrowed his eyebrows, “I’ve lost you, haven’t I?”

Gamzee smiled a little sheepishly and shrugged, “This shit all sounds way over my fuckin’ head, bro. An’ I ain’t real sure what you mean when you say I existed ‘fore this. I got all hatched out an’ egg like any other motherfucker.”

Karkat sighed and nodded, “Yes, but you were also hatched out of an egg in a world that existed before this one. We called it Alternia and it was a massive fucking shithole compared to this place.”

Gamze laughed out loud at that and pulled his knees up to his chest, “Still not sure I totally understand but I wanna hear ‘bout this other motherfucker what was also me.”

“Well, you lived on a beach like you do now, and you looked like you, but you wore different clothes because this planet is way fucking behind on technology right now, but whatever,” Karkat flushed a light red in the cheeks, “And we were Best Friends.”

Gamzee went maybe a little bit purple as well, “You mean like- You mean like humans do best friends or like… like pale?” Maybe it made his heart go a little bit aflutter thinking that maybe he’d been worth something properly before if he was good enough that a God had filled his pale quadrant.

With a nod of his head Karkat confirmed it and sighed quietly, “And I uh… well I wasn’t very good to you. I was a pretty shitty moirail if we’re being honest here.”

“Shit bro, couldn’t a’ been that bad, you’re a motherfuckin’ god. ‘F anythin’ must a’ been somethin’ I did.”

Karkat winced and averted his eyes, shaking his head, “No I pretty much treated you like shit. I’ve had centuries to regret a _lot_ of things I did and treating you the way I did is pretty close to the top of that list. I wasn’t a god in that world, and I was- Fuck how many years is six sweeps? About thirteen? Fourteen? I was a dumbass wriggler and I treated you like dirt because I didn’t know how to actually be a half-decent fucking person. We- it wasn’t all bad all the time. You… didn’t seem to mind how shitty I treated you though, so I don’t know how much of it was actually good and I doubt you do either considering you can’t remember it and you were-” he paused a moment and chewed his lip, “You were always high off your fucking ass.”

Gamzee frowned, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, “Ain’t sure what you mean by that.”

Karkat ran a hand through his hair, “You- You used to eat this stuff- you guys don’t have it on this planet- but it always fucked with your pan in really weird ways, made you kind of… not all there. You didn’t think about things that were serious in serious ways and when you had to stop eating it… you just- You were having a really hard time with it and I don’t know what happened, but it fucked with you and some really bad things happened.” Karkat lowered his head and rested his head in his hands for a moment before speaking up again, “But you’re here now, and you- you seem like- like yourself and I’m-” He took a deep breath, “I’m so lucky to see you again.”

For a moment silence reigned and Gamzee just stared at the ground, trying to wrap his head around what this God had told him. That he’d known him before, that they’d been pale for one another, that apparently there had been horrible things that happened that he seemed unwilling to talk about. Then slowly Gamzee reached over to gently take one of Karkat’s hands in his own, “That’s why you picked me then? ‘Cause you were pale for… for the me I was before?”

Karkat glanced up at him, face softening, “I- Well… I’m not sure how to explain it. We all knew you before. You were- well I don’t know if I could say that Terezi and Kanaya _liked_ you, but you were part of a group of us and we were all… sort of friends I guess. You’re the first person from that past world that we’ve seen here and I- well I did some things I ought to have apologized for and I did some things that I regret and I wondered if maybe you would remember.” He chewed his lip, “And even if I can’t… apologize properly, it’s good to see you regardless.”

Gamzee squeezed Karkat’s hand in his own and took a deep breath, “I… don’t know really who I am or was to you, but it’s… I’m real fuckin’ grateful you been watchin’ over me like this. I got somethin’ I really gotta wonder on though. You said this hasn’t happened before an’ you don’t up an’ know how I got here… why’d you send me lookin’ for somethin’ then?”

A sheepish smile spread over Karkat’s features, “I didn’t mean to actually. I was showing you something from our lands and I guess it made sense that you wanted to go seek something out. I’m glad you did though, this wouldn’t have happened otherwise.”

“I-” He stared a moment before throwing his head back and laughing, “I fuckin’ thought-” He laughed and Karkat started to snicker as well, holding onto Gamzee’s hand with both of his own, so warm and unusually hot around his cold fingers, “Glad it happened though, got to up an’ meet a motherfucker what’s been keepin’ an eye on me an’ get my know on to all sorts of miracle shit.”

Footsteps approaching and a figure on the pathway up to the pavilion began ease their laughing and a sharp voice cut it off completely.

“Karkat what the fuck is he doing here? I’d know that smell a million miles away.” A troll the same age as Karkat with pointed horns and a strip of red fabric tied over her eyes walked up along the pathway towards the two of them and Gamzee froze up immediately before dropping to his knees again and bracing his arms on the cold stone pathway before The Law.

“Gamzee for fuck’s sake, get up-” Karkat started.

The Law raised an eyebrow, “No no, I think he’s fine the way he is. Let him stay down for a second. Karkat, what the _fuck_ are you doing. First it was “Oh let me help him get a fucking job” now it’s somehow _bring him to our domain and keep him like a pet_ , is it?” She rested her hands on her cane and pursed her lips, stroking her thumbs back and forth over the handle and Gamzee kept his head bowed at her feet, glancing nervously between the two as best he could.

Karkat stood up, “Gamzee get up, she doesn’t need the groveling, it’s fine.”

The Law stared ahead at nothing through the blindfold over her eyes and waved a hand, “Whatever. Karkat, if you fuck up our perfectly nice little planet all because you’re still horns over heels pale for this clown, I swear to god.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “Just don’t fuck this up okay.” She turned to walk away and about halfway down the path she turned back around, “And once he’s gone I’d like to have a very _long_ group conversation with the rest of us.”

Karkat groaned like a wriggler and Gamzee couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at that before slowly raising his head as The Law walked away. His eyes watching her leave and before rising to sit back on his knees. His eyebrows knitted together and he turned to look up at the Shield, “Up an’ get the feelin’ she ain’t too fuckin’ fond a’ me. I should probably go. I ain’t up an’ wanted here.”

“What? No no, Terezi’s just- she’s just overly cautious with this whole thing.”

“Is it ‘cause a’ the bad stuff a brother was all up an’ gettin’ his mention on to?”

Karkat sighed and Gamzee stared up at him with concern written all over his face before the Shield nodded to him and sighed, “Yeah. She had a… particularly bad experience with what happened.”

“What happened?”

When Karkat refused to meet Gamzee’s eyes or speak of whatever had happened, Gamzee nodded slowly and sat down cross-legged, “I should go.”

“No!” The answer came all too quickly and Karkat seated himself next to Gamzee, “No, I don’t want you to go. I don’t know if I’ll get to see you again and there’s- there’s so many things I have to tell you, have to talk to you about.”

Gamzee frowned and sighed as he looked over this God with the body of someone just out of adolescence, and eyes so old, but clinging to long-lost hopes and he reached over with one hand, trying to place the fondness he held for Karkat. For reasons he couldn’t place Gamzee found himself wanting to hold this troll. This wasn’t how he should think about a God, but nonetheless he found himself reaching over and resting a palm on Karkat’s back, “I don’t think this’ll be the last time you see me, but I can’t stay here forever either way. Don’t think it’ll up an’ work. Wherever this is, I bet my body’s still sittin’ there all up an’ bein’ fuckin unattended an’ shit. Gotta take care a’ that husk,” He joked, “It ain’t much, but the body’s gotta have some fuckin’ upkeep.”

Karkat stifled a laugh and wrapped both his arms around Gamzee in another warm embrace, “If you have to…” He sighed into Gamzee’s shoulder and squeezed him a little tighter, “Are you happy on this planet?”

For a moment, Gamzee only paused to think, squeezing Karkat just a little tighter before nodding softly, “Yeah, brother. I think maybe I’m happy there.”

“Good. You deserve to be happy.” Karkat gradually let go of him and glanced Gamzee up and down.

“I dunno if I’d go that far, but I appreciate the fuckin’ sentiment,” He grinned at The Shield and sighed quietly, “Thank you. I’m real fuckin’ grateful for everythin’ you done for me.”

Karkat nodded with a smile that seemed not quite to reach his eyes, “You’ve deserved every good thing that’s come your way, divine or otherwise.”

Gamzee smiled at that and shook his head, placing his hands in his lap and sighing, “You’re truly too kind. They picture you all fuckin’ wrong in statues an’ paintin’s an’ shit. You ain’t cold or hard. You’re warm an’ kind an’ all sorts a’ wonderful shit.”

With that Gamzee closed his eyes and let out a slow breath, allowing his mind to go blank and when he opened his eyes once more he found himself returned to the Cave, a sort of bittersweet contentedness filling him to the very brim as he turned to look outside where the rain had ceased and left the world covered anew in a sheen of water under the sunlight.


	4. Metamorphosis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Horribly sorry for how long this is taking, but I'm glad to be able to get the next chapter to you. Only one more after this and I already have about a third of the next chapter written so hopefully it won't be too long! In the meantime, please enjoy this chapter!

For months Gamzee wandered the world, roaming and meeting new people from places he’s only heard of through the stories of travellers, an irony that was not lost on him. Now _he_ was the traveller, bringing stories of other towns, cities, villages, places that seemed forgotten, places in the midst of the world where this realm and that of the Gods bled together.

As he roamed he found more  signs, godly symbols as he called them. He would walk for weeks, sometimes longer than a month and each one showed him pieces of the stories of the Gods in a world that was most certainly not this one. One vision he found showed him a troll with metal legs who flew and found himself skewered on the end of his own weapon. Yet another showed him of a troll with electricity at his fingertips who died and died over again, who found himself blind and wandering a world guided by the girl he’d seen in that first vision in the cave.

Each symbol gave him a short time in that other realm where all around there seemed only garden and beyond the garden only mist that stretched out so far it seemed as if they might be floating in the middle of the sky. He met Karkat again each time, and Karkat would tell him things. Stories. Anecdotes. _Things_ about being a god. Each time Gamzee saw Karkat he listened reverently, intrigued by this world before him and his own pilgrimage, searching for these places where the two realms bled together and showed him of the universe that he’d come from.

Now Gamzee found himself in a city far from where he’d begun his journey, walking barefoot through another town filled with unfamiliar streets and unfamiliar faces, though with his feet pulling him along the roads he found himself unfazed by the city. He watched the expressions of passersby when he came through. Some would stop and stare at the shoeless nomad wandering their city; Others did their best to avoid looking at him at all.

Gamzee offered smiles to those who stared at him and, as he meandered the streets, he found himself asking after the city’s temple. He stopped a man bustling by on the street with a gentle hand on his forearm, long bony fingers, cold and knobby with hunger only briefly brushing over warm human skin, “Brother, mind if a soul up an’ asks where the temple’s gettin’ it’s most righteous location on  in this city?”

The man stood a few inches shorter than Gamzee, hair long and straight, tied back so that it ran down his back and he stared a moment at him, disgusted that he’d dared to touch him at all. He glared up at Gamzee, letting his eyes drop to take in his lack of shoes and the dirt and grime caked over his skin, turning the grey slightly brown, his hair wild and untamed, and yet with a hopeful smile gracing his features.

With a wave of his hand and a scoff the stranger dismissed Gamzee, “Go ask someone who cares.”

Gamzee’s smile faltered and he nodded his head once even as the human walked away before turning back to the street, frowning and trying to find his way to the central marketplace. There would be more people there, right? Someone was bound to give him directions. His feet wandered along and guided him through winding streets. When someone would pass by he’d ask directions to the Temple, though the majority of people ignored him, one or two apologized for not knowing the way, for they’d only arrived recently as well. He made his way towards the market, vendor stalls appearing more often through the streets until he came to a place where the crowd began to grow denser. He turned to ask a troll– a little thing, probably years younger than himself– once more for directions to the temple.

“Sister, can I up an’ ask how I might be findin’ my way to the temple in this city?”

She turned to gaze up at him and nodded, her eyebrows furrowing together in thought for a moment and she turned towards the middle of the block, narrowing her eyes and then spoke up, “Uh huh. Um, If I remember right I think if you head straight through the marketplace, you can take third all the way east and as soon as you get to the end of third where it turns into Maple, you can turn right and that’ll take you up to the temple.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate the help, sister. Gods guide your path.” He offered her a smile and made his way through the crowd and down the streets with a pleased smile.

Gamzee meandered up the steps of the temple when he arrived. This one seemed smaller than the one where he was from, but the temple _felt_ right; The whole city felt right, like he was meant to be here. He let his feet guide him to each of the statues where he would kneel and pray to each of them in turn, pray for the protection of those who needed it. Pray for that which would bring balance to a world where far too many children went hungry and far too many lost those they loved.

When he came to Karkat’s statue he smiled up at his figure, this one carved in a different image of him. This statue of the Shield glared defiantly up at some sort of invisible threat, shaking his fist and holding his shield in the opposite hand. He had to snicker a little because from what little he’d seen of the God it seemed both an accurate depiction and a comedic one. Gamzee dropped to his knees and clasped his hand, whispering a quiet prayer for guidance and of thanks.

He unfurled himself from his position crouched at the feet of the statue and he smiled fondly as he rose to his feet. When he turned towards the front of the temple the whole world seemed to pull him along, as if by a rope wrapped around his waist, guiding his feet and he may not know the location of where he needed to go, but his feet and his soul seemed to know where he was meant to be and dragged him along through the streets of the town.

The feeling came even before he saw it. A smelter sent black fumes puffing up into the clear sky overhead and the sound of metal striking metal reverberated through the streets. His heartbeat picked up and his feet tread over stone littered with ash and black coal dust. It pulsed through him. One of them was _here_. He couldn’t yet see it but he could feel it even through the sharp clanging of a hammer on metal and the heat from the forge, a steady buzz seemed to fill him, starting up from his feet and through his spine. When he saw it his whole being froze for only a few moments.

In the stone wall around the smelter was a symbol carved like two circles in orbit, each with a tail and chasing the other. Gamzee reached out to touch it, running his fingers over the weathered lines and breathing in. He seated himself right there on the side of the street, even as people walked past him, he sat and closed his eyes, slowing his breathing and beginning to clear his mind, letting the ancient power that even the Gods seemed not to entirely understand guide his thoughts.

This vision, like the ones before it also influenced by these symbols he kept finding, came clear and chronological. With each one, his understanding of the ones before it grew richer. When this vision came, this time he immediately recognized its subject.

Karkat Vantas. The Shield of the People.

* * *

 When Gamzee appeared in the garden again, Karkat could feel it and he immediately stood from his dish in his pavilion and came running. When he reached the mortal though something was off. Gamzee’s eyebrows knitted themselves together and his the corners of his lips turned downwards just the slightest bit. Karkat slowed to a walk and watched Gamzee for a moment from a distance before walking up to him and reaching out to tentatively take his hand, “Gamzee?”

He glanced up at him, features softening, but not by much, his lips still turned down in a frown.

“Is-” Karkat paused, releasing Gamzee’s hand, “What’s wrong? You look-” He trailed off, not sure what to say. He looked like he'd seen a ghost, “Did something happen?”

Gamzee paused a moment in thought before speaking up quietly, “Found your mark, brother. I saw-” How could he describe it? How could he describe that he felt as if he’d lived Karkat’s previous life himself.

“I saw everythin’. Ugly an’ motherfuckin’ beautiful an’ brother I got so many questions but none of ‘em you can answer because I _know_ what you know an’ I wonder if you got the same fuckin’ questions I do.”

A warm hand reached up to rest on his cheek and Gamzee sighed, relaxing slowly into the gentle touch and he sighed, “Brother can we sit down an’ talk? I got all sorts a’ things swirlin’ ‘round up in my fuckin’ pan makin’ mighty unrighteous noise an’ I ain’t sure- I don’t fuckin’ know what to think.”

Karkat nodded and let his hand drop back down to Gamzee’s, taking his knobby hands in his own and guiding him back to the pavilion, “Yeah, let’s sit down. What’s on your pan?” There’s a part of Karkat that’s terrified of what Gamzee now knew about him, that now Gamzee knew everything he thought and felt and the entire experience, “What do you have questions about? I probably don’t have _any_ of the answers, but I can do my best. I just hope it’ll be good enough.”

Gamzee seated himself on the steps of the pavilion, wringing his hands together, though not anxiously, just in thought. A pregnant pause filled the moment between them before eventually Gamzee spoke up, voice barely above a whisper, “Brother are you afraid a’ me?”

At the question, Karkat couldn’t help his surprise, staring as Gamzee’s whole figure curled in over itself, his weight on the balls of his feet and his knees drawn up into his chest, bony fingers working themselves over, his eyes trained down on the cobblestone pathway.

“Gamzee, look at me.”

He turned his head slowly, hesitating to meet the God’s eyes, worry and guilt written over his features.

“I’m not afraid of you. Maybe I was afraid of you once because of shitty circumstances, but this you- you’re not the same.”

“But that’s just what I’m up an’ gettin’ my worry onto, brother. I’m-” He gripped his hands in his hair, tangling his fingers in the tight curls, “I ain’t the same as the me what- what killed all those people an’ made you scared, then- then _why_ watch my path at all? I ain’t the same- I ain’t that kid up an’ livin’ in the future-past noise I haven’t really gotten my understanding onto.” He sighed and buried his face in his gangly knees, “I don’t get this shit, brother. You were _scared_ a’ me.”

The two of them sat in silence, the only sound Gamzee’s quiet shaky breathing. Eventually Karkat spoke up in response, “Gamzee. This is still you, but this is a version of you who got a clean start and a second chance.”

“Who am I, though? Who was I supposed ta be?” His hands clenched tighter into his hair, “You were- you were so scared and angry and a little sad because a’ me. What- why was I like that? I ain't like that now, why was I so…” he trailed off, failing to find the words to describe what he was thinking. His fingers went lax in his hair and he let his arms slide down to hug his knees, “I just don't understand. An’ if I was like that then, what's to stop me from becomin’... Becomin’ all cruel an’ angry all over again?”

“Gamzee, do you think that if you grew up in a different world with different friends with an entirely different culture, you would be exactly the same as you are now?”

His shoulders slumped just slightly and his arms droop around his knees, “Well no, I don't think so, but-”

“But what? Do you feel some ridiculous urge to turn into a total asshole and start killing people left and right?”

The pause Gamzee allowed before speaking lasted longer than the God had hoped and anticipated, his expression slowly hardening until Gamzee spoke up, soft and ashamed, a whisper, as if to tell a secret that could topple nations.

“Sometimes I wanna kill the motherfuckers what go off an’ kick around kids who can’t up an’ feed or defend ‘emselves.”

“Gamzee.”

His head snapped up to stare at Karkat, eyes wide as if he expected recompense for his confessed sin.

“You think way too fucking hard.”

* * *

The first one was a troll who’d seen him while he meditated in front of the smelter. He’s a short man, stout with horns that seem as if they’d been bent out away from his head to keep from piercing his own skull.

“Where are you from?” He’d asked.

“Why are you here?”

“Who are you?”

“What stories can you tell?”

For an hour the two of them sat on the street corner and Gamzee spoke of the marvels he’d encountered, the feeling of the gods guiding his footsteps.

The short stout troll accompanied him when he left the city.

The next were hunters. He and his companion shared a fire with the hunters and they laughed and ate and laughed some more. They asked him why he wears no shoes yet travels such great distances through the hot and the cold. They asked him of his journey. They asked him of how he met the gods.

They accompanied him as he made his way through the forests.

The next were children. They threw rocks at him over the bridge into town. One of the hunters threatened to skin them and Gamzee only reached out to stay his hand. The wrigglers demanded a toll, and threw rocks at the hunter again when he attempted to refuse. Gamzee dug through his satchel, producing a gold coin for them and asked them if they had anywhere to stay.

The kids called him crazy and accompanied him as he visited the temple.

The small group of followers watched as he meditated before a symbol etched into the wall and all of them felt a cool breeze and saw the flickerings of something not of this world in the air around Gamzee.

 _Messiah,_ they whispered.

_Divine._

_Blessed._

“Batshit _crazy,_ ” breathed one of the wrigglers. The other one punched him in the arm.

More came as their group moved through cities and across the country, through forests and deserts wherever Gamzee’s path led them.

Soon too many to bring all into town at once began travelling with him and they slept all out under the stars, twenty or thirty of them, laughing and telling stories and somehow when they arrived into town, the people there seemed to know they were coming. Kids would come running out to greet them. People he didn’t know would offer to let Gamzee stay in their home and eat of their food. Many would ask to follow him on his pilgrimage.

When he found a mark, many would sit in a circle with him and meditate. Gamzee had hoped that perhaps they might see the gods as well, but none appeared in the garden. None of them expressed disappointment though.

“I felt at peace,” they would say, “I felt godliness within reach.”

They came to a coastline, all of them, their tents set up, dotting the rocky beach. He’d allowed his feet to lead him here, his faith to bring him wherever felt right, but as he looked out over the ocean his pusher ached and he seated himself on the edge of the cliff overhanging the sea. His feet dangled over rocks at the base of the cliff, smoothed over by the unrelenting ocean and watched. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that he was searching for a splash of white amongst the grey-green of the ocean.

The sound of footsteps approaching did little to snap him from his thoughts, “Gamzee?” A quiet voice piped up, “Trenza and Alexander are starting to gather firewood, the tents are mostly up, are-” The voice trailed off for a moment, “Are you alright?”

He took a breath and nodded, plastering his usual wide, lazy smile over his face, “A’ course, sister. What’s food lookin’ like?”

It was just the motions. Have the wrigglers and elderly eaten? Will they have enough firewood to last the night? Is there enough water to go round? How many hunters can they spare for the time being? Are the lusii fed and watered? Have water basins been put out for when it rains? Do tents need repairs?

Once the worry of their arrangements for however long they’d stay here were sorted out, he’s left to stare out over the sea again, the wind whipping through his hair and his clothes, scanning the horizon and trying to convince himself that it’s not because he’s hoping to spot his lusus out there.

The sound of wrigglers shouting eventually drew him from his thoughts and he sighed, watching the ocean only a moment longer before bracing a hand on the edge of the cliff to stand up. Except that under his hand he felt something indented into the cliffside. He leaned over to get a look at the face of the cliff and blinked at a symbol something like an n with a curl at the bottom. He stared at it for a moment incredulously, not having even felt that it was here before touching it.

A smile spread over his lips and he settled himself back on the cliffside, letting his eyes slip shut and the cool ocean breeze drift over his face. It took so much longer this time, perhaps because of the familiarity of staring out at the sea and hoping for his lusus to appear among the waves, perhaps because of the smell of sea air and the breeze through his hair, perhaps because of the sound of wrigglers arguing over whose turn it was to climb the big tree. Regardless, he sat for several minutes, breathing slowly and allowing his thoughts  to clear.

* * *

 This changed everything. He went running for Karkat’s pavilion, shouting after him, “Karkat! Brother you ain’t gonna _believe_ -!” He nearly bowled the sputtering god over off his seat, hugging around him and laughing, “Brother I ain’t gonna kill a single soul, I’m gonna be fine I-” He let his grip loosen on Karkat’s robes as the shorter troll attempted to avoid falling over at the sudden attention.

“Gamzee,” He started, reaching up to cup his jaw with both hands, “Gamzee I need you to slow down. What happened? I can’t understand you if you don’t slow the fuck down and _explain_ to me.”

“Motherfuck, brother, but I had a _vision_ ,” he breathed. His eyes wandered, staring out of the pavilion towards the greenery blooming around this pocket of space the gods inhabited.

Karkat’s features softened and he sat back down at his stool, letting his arms drop from Gamzee’s jaw to hold his hands, “You get those _every_ time though. Was this like a- a sort of “stop everything I’m having an epiphany” vision or something?”

Gamzee shook his head, “Wasn’t just an epiphany, brother. It was _me_ . I saw _me_. I know what happened now. I saw it all, I know why the me from the god-world- why he-...” He trailed off. Even if he knew why things had happened the way they did now, his stomach still churned at the thought of himself being the cause of so much suffering, “There was-” He searched for the words, sinking down slowly to kneel on the floor before Karkat, resting his chin on the god’s knee, “There was a doll. An’ there was somethin’ in that thing. Somethin’ evil through an’ motherfuckin’ through.”

He let his hands move to rest on Karkat’s ankles, eyebrows furrowed deeply in thought, “I- The me from that place got fuckin’ snapped an’ it crawled in his pan, made him confused an’ angry an’ he couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t make that- that evil get outta his pan. Twisted him all up inside an’ he was still there an’ so scared a’ what he was doin’ an’ so-” He stopped, eyes clenched shut and shaking his head at the memory that wasn’t quite his. Of being held captive in his own mind, of being unable to escape his own body even by death, of seeing himself killing people he loved, or at least considered his friends.

The silence grew heavier and heavier until Karkat’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, “You’re saying,” He started choosing his words carefully, “You’re saying that you- he- I mean- you’re saying you were possessed?”

When the words reached Gamzee’s ears they sounded skeptical, as if unwilling to believe that his actions might not have been his own and he frowned up at Karkat, “Not- Not possessed I don’t think. Jus’- I think that… I think that he- I mean that I- I was weak an’ scared an’ whatever got in my pan twisted it up an’... an’ made him- I mean made me do things I didn’t ever wanna do.”

Warm hands moved to his shoulders and Karkat hunched  over and met his eyes, scanning them as if searching for something he just wasn’t seeing or finding, the god’s lips turned down in a deep frown.

With a sudden heat growing in his neck and creeping up his face, Gamzee stood and backed away from the god, “Brother, I’m tellin’ you the fuckin’ truth, I’m tellin’ you what I saw. You sound-” He sank down with his back against one of the pillars, shaking his head slowly and refusing to break eye contact with Karkat, “It sounds like a brother ain’t up an’ believin’ a motherfuckin’ _thing_ a soul’s gettin’ their explainin’ onto.”

The pause before Karkat spoke said more than his words did. The fact that he had to think about what he was going to say, that there was even a shred of doubt in the validity of what Gamzee’d said, “I don’t think you’re lying to me it just-”

Gamzee stared at him with a knot growing in his stomach, “Just what? You think I could- I could in my most righteous a’ motherfuckin’ minds, just,” He swallowed around the lump growing in his throat, “Jus’ kill people I love an’ care for? You think I could turn ‘round an’ jus’, because I’m scared, kill people I always, _always_ loved?”

“No! No that’s-” Karkat is the first to break eye contact, standing up from his stool and pacing back and forth through the pavilion, “It just sounds- I don’t know. I thought the anger just… came from you being a highblood. I thought that was what you’d been eating- eating sopor for. To make the anger go away or something.”

Gamzee blinked at him and shook his head slowly, “Why’d you think that, brother?”

“I don’t know, it just… made sense! Highbloods are all naturally violent, it made sense that eating slime would make you less angry or murder-y or something.”

Silence. Gamzee let his eyes drop to his feet as he watched his own feet, the world seeming to freeze except for the gentle breeze.

“Don’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t make sense?”

Gamzee pursed his lips and continued to pay meticulous attention to his own toenails, “If… ‘f it was the slime what’s keepin’ a motherfucker in check, wouldn’t I ‘a been angry like that here?”

When no response came, he lifted his gaze in time to watch as Karkat began to walk towards him and seated himself down next to Gamzee with a sigh, “I guess not.”

A warm hand wrapped around his own and he let out a tired breath, allowing Karkat’s head to rest on his shoulder. His head tipped back against the pillar and his eyes fell shut, “Brother why’s it bother you so fuckin’ much? Thought…” He paused and leaned his head over to rest his cheek atop Karkat’s between his little round horns, “Thought it’d be good news knowin’ I ain’t gonna start killin’ people. Thought it’d make a brother happy.”

“I don’t know. It just-”

Gamzee waited quietly as Karkat struggled to find the words, resting against him and almost forgetting they’d even been talking by the time Karkat finally spoke again.

“I guess I just… if we’d had _known_ then maybe we could have done something about it. It just- It means you died- that you didn’t get to come with us for no fucking reason. We could have figured out a way to get whatever was there out of your head and-”

One of his cool hands reached up to gently stroke Karkat’s cheek and press a finger to his lips, “Shh, it’s okay brother. I don’t think there was much anyone coulda done ta save him. Fucker up in his pan was a real fuckin’ powerful motherfucker.” The tension seemed to slowly leach out of them and into the ground, leaving them slumped against each other.

“Besides,” Gamzee spoke up, tentative and soft, “If I hadn’t died, I wouldn’t a’ been able ta meet all the people I did. Give ‘em a big o’l family.”

Karkat snickered and let out a breath, “I guess so.”

“Karkat?”

“Yeah?”

He paused, picking out his words carefully, “Wasn’t up an’ sure ‘bout it ‘til now, but I think I might be mighty fuckin’ pale for a brother.”

An elbow struck him in the ribs forcing a laugh from his throat, “Stop being sappy, you’re gonna make me cry.”

“I ain’t ever seen god-tears before.”

“Fuck you, I’m not gonna cry.”

“You’re _already_ cryin’, brother! Aw c’mere,” his arm wrapped around Karkat’s shoulders and dragged him closer. His free hand moved to smooth his thumbs beneath Karkat’s eyes, wiping away pink where tears had welled up and overflown.

“You’re _horrible_.”

“An’ you’re a motherfuckin’ _mess_.”

“Gamzee?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m pretty goddamn pale for you too.”

“Shit brother, I had no fuckin’ clue.”


	5. Crucifixion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the final chapter!  
> TW for graphic depictions of violence

Like whispers in the dead of night they came at first. Trodding carefully through the soft masses of sleeping people, curled up beneath the night sky. The motion stopped over the sleeping figure of the Messiah the world’s whisperings spoke of. He was smaller than they’d expected. Skinny with bones sticking out under his skin, hair bushy and wild.

The disturbance came with the sound of a child sitting up and rubbing her eyes, taking a moment to understand the strange people standing over the god-whisperer. Her voice came out small and terrified, “G-Gamzee?” 

The world sighed in the moment that Gamzee’s eyes slowly fluttered open, a calm before the storm. He shifted to prop himself up on his elbows, blinking sleep from his eyes and scanning through the dark for the little human girl sitting awake in the night. He’d been about to whisper to her, to ask if she’d had a nightmare, assure her that the gods would watch over them all and that she could come sleep next to him if it’d make her feel better. 

Before he could speak though, the calm snapped. Rough hands gripped around his horns and he yelped as a second pair of hands turned him over onto his stomach, the firm grasp on his horns ground his face into the dirt and a boot pressed to his back. The pulling and pushing on his horns left a harsh deafening ringing in his ears. Cold hands- even colder than his own- held to his arms, keeping him pressed down to the ground. He jerked in an attempt to flee, but he’d been caught unaware, asleep. His shouts and struggles drew the attention of the others sleeping around the campsite. 

When a pair of hands clapped him over his horns, his vision blacked out, head spinning with the pain that shot down his spine and burned in the base of his skull. 

He came to in the dark, eyes blinking blindly until they adjusted to the low light. He shook his head in an attempt to remember what had brought him here. Where exactly  _ was _ here anyway? In the dark he shifted to sit up straighter, noting the coarse rope that chafed against his wrists, leaving them warm and raw. When the darkness came into focus the first thing he could see were a set of dark metal bars. A prison no doubt. The exhaustion hit him immediately and his eyes fell shut, no longer able to keep them open. He mustered just enough energy to move his lips and whispered prayer drifted up into the air, “Oh Shield, brother please protect my friends, don’t let ‘em be here, please.” He tipped his head back against the cold stone wall propping him up, wincing as the tips of his horns clicked against the wall and sent a twinge to the bases where they’d been yanked and pulled earlier. Slowly his form slumped and he breathed slowly in wait.

The wait was not long. 

Within the hour the flickering of candlelight and the sound of footsteps announced the presence of a tall human as he came down the hall, stopping outside the prison and eyeing Gamzee through the bars of the cell. Noting that the prisoner had finally woken he bustled down back down the corridor. The sound of a wooden door slamming shut echoed through the stone halls before the footsteps came again, this time in a far greater quantity.

A crowd gathered outside the door and Gamzee slowly lifted his head to watch through half-lidded eyes as feet stopped just beyond the bars and the clicking of a key in the lock bounced off the cold stone walls and the door to his cell swung open. The tall one who had come through earlier marched in. A tight hand wrapped none too gently around Gamzee’s upper arm, dragging him to his feet. His knees quivered and he swayed like a reed in the wind. The world spun around him now that he’d risen, grey clouding and encroaching upon his vision only a few moments: the few moments that the human dragged him forward and out of the cell. His feet stumbled to keep up with the guard and he found himself leaning heavily on the human’s grip around his arm, as painful as it might be.

“Brother, whad’ya want?”

He’d scarcely begun his question before a clap on the back of the head left him yelping and quieting himself, unsure of who these people were, why he was here, what they planned to do with him. For the first time since setting out on his pilgrimage he found himself  _ scared. _

“Where’re the wrigglers?” He demanded now, attempting to right his posture and considering whether the children had made it out of the fray unharmed. Whether the rest of his following had made it out, “Brothers, please I dunno what you want, why you’re doin’ this, but I swear ‘f the kids’re hurtin’-”

“Silence!” This time the blow to the back of his head he received sent him to the ground. Metal against bone left him reeling on the floor, the world spinning around him and when he was dragged once more to his feet, a trickle of warmth worked down his neck to his back. Dizzy and disoriented, eyes watering at the pain that stung and ached where he’d been struck, he found himself marched into another cell. Through a small window in the back of the cell, the soft rays of moonlight struck the cold stone floor and illuminated the small space. Light glinted off of a pair of crude metal cuffs, dangling, bolted to the wall. 

Gamzee tripped forward as a set of four hands forced him towards the wall. The sound of metal sawing away rope filled the room, accompanied only by the sound of breathing until the creaking of metal took its place. The cuffs tightened down around his wrists and bit into his skin, cold and unforgiving. Questions itched at the back of his throat, but the blood dripping down the back of his neck served as a reminder of the consequences for speaking up. So his head hung forward, the stone floor cold and rough against his bare, weathered feet. 

His captors slowly filed out of the cell, all except for one. A troll with enormous fins, flared out in a threat display. When she approached him, Gamzee dared to speak up once more with only the two of them left in the dim moonlit chamber.

“Sister, why?”

Her answer sounded in a harsh “Crack!” That echoed through the chamber and throbbed in his left cheek. He took a shaky breath and lowered his eyes to her sandals.

“What good’s this, sister?” He breathed when the silence stretched on too long, eyes clenched shut in preparation for another strike. When none came he lifted his head once more to watch her face and to his surprise rather than hitting him again she spoke.

“You can’t pretend you don’t know what you’re doing,” She responded and her voice came out low and dangerously wavering.

His eyebrows furrowed at her in confusion and he locked eyes with her, searching for what she wanted from him, what she could possibly hope to hear, “I ain’t doin’ anythin’ but followin’ the path the gods set out for me.”

Her fist connected with the flesh around his left eye with a blossom of pain and two shouts of very different natures resonated off the walls.

“The gods set you on this path? Is that what you tell them? You feed them blasphemy about the gods and how kind they are and how so like us they are? You tell them that the world isn’t right and that it’s up to you to topple it over?”

“What?” He stared at her, eyebrows furrowed and she seemed so angry and he couldn’t understand it, “Sister, I ain’t never-”

“Don’t  _ lie _ to me, oh  _ messiah _ of the shield.  _ You false prophet _ .” And her words rang against the walls like a curse. As if to enforce her order, her knee drove up into his stomach and he wretched, body going entirely limp for a moment as he tried to gasp for air that refused to return to him.

_ False Prophet. _

Is that what they thought? Is that what the  _ world _ thought? He’d spoken of the gods only for personal gain? Tears leaked down his cheeks and he sang his agony to the heavens.

* * *

He counted himself lucky that the sun had not yet risen by the time she’d decided he could take no more. He found himself again tossed into a cell in the dark. They hadn’t even bothered to tie his wrists together again, beaten within an inch of his life, hardly able to lift a finger let alone run. His knees no longer even supported his weight and they’d dragged him across the hard stone floor. He collapsed against the wall of the cell. His bones creaked and his skin pulled at dried cuts, reopening them and forcing a whole new pain through him whenever he so much as moved. 

He laid quietly on his back in the dark of the cell, taking pleasure in the stillness and ease laying there allowed him. For a long while he simply laid there with his eyes gently shut, facing the ceiling before turning his head and wincing at the way it ached to move at all.

He blinked his eyes open just briefly and that’s when he spotted it. 

In the stone of the wall, a symbol like an H. An especially tall, curled H, and with one hand he reached out to brush his fingers over the symbol etched into the wall of his prison and a tired smile stretched over his face.

He laughed.

It grated in his throat and tears welled in his eyes but he laughed and let his index finger trace the symbol. He might see his beloved before these scared people who named him Heretic and Blasphemer killed him. 

He let his hand drop back to the floor and his eyes fell closed. He slowed his breathing, let his mind clear, imagined the pain gone as his mind finally became entirely blank. 

* * *

He could feel it. When his eyes opened he laid in the midst of the garden, aching and in pain, with another life of memories swimming in his pan, but he could see the strange white mist overhead and the  _ green _ that permeated the space.

“Karkat?” He mumbled, eyes scanning the surroundings. Another rasp, “Karkat? Beloved?” Listening to himself, he could hardly even hear what he’d said, “Please.”

His breathing felt heavy even here where he no longer laid on cold stone but soft grass greener than any he’d seen in the mortal world. It was with great effort that he pushed himself up with his hands to his knees, panting and aching as he dragged himself towards the nearest pathway, desperate to keep himself here at least until he could see Karkat. He took a shaky breath before making an effort to sit up. He braced one hand on the grass and the other on the stones of the paved pathway, lifting himself up to sit cross-legged. He kept one hand braced on the ground to steady himself and took a deep breath before speaking up again, stronger this time, “Karkat!”

The God who came to him was not the one he’d called for.

This one he hadn’t seen before. She was a human girl and when she came down the path from her pavillion she stopped for a moment before hurrying up to Gamzee, breathing a soft “oh shit” under her breath as she approached and reached out to touch him before frowning at his condition, “You’re Gamzee, yeah?” She glanced up towards one of the other pavilions, presumably Karkat’s.

He gave her a slow tired nod, “Yeah, sister. You-” He took another slow shaky breath, trying to ignore the pain, “You’re the Thought?” He opened his eyes to look up at her again, “Philosophy an’ whatnot right?” He offered her a smile, though his teeth were stained purple with his own blood.

“Yeah, shit, here lemme go get your troll-boyfriend, just hold on a second-” She stood up straight and for a moment he thought she was going to head over to one of the pavilions. Instead she just puffed up her chest and then bellowed across the garden, “Karkat get your  _ ass _ over here and take care of your bleeding platonic-alien-boyfriend!” She seated herself next to him on the paved pathway and wrapped an arm around him. He leaned into her with relief and a heavy sigh, silently pleased that she hadn’t left him alone lying on the stone pathway.

“Thank you,” he muttered, eyes falling shut again even as he heard Karkat’s feet thumping against the path as he hurried over to them, “Is ‘ere somethin’ I should call ya?” He glanced up briefly at The Thought as she let him rest against her shoulder.

“Roxy.”

He nodded almost imperceptibly before repeating the name back to her, “Roxy.”

He hummed when warm familiar hands gripped his shoulders and Roxy helped him sit up, shifting him over against the dense mass that was his moirail and he only sort of followed all the things Karkat said, too tired to process all the “oh my god”s and “what happened”s.

He just leaned against his moirail, one hand reaching out, groping around for Karkat’s free hand and gently taking it in his own, “Shhh, shhh.” He lifted one hand to Karkat’s cheek and gently stroked his thumb stutteringly back and forth over his skin, “Calm down, jus’ breathe.”

“Gamzee, what the  _ fuck _ happened? You look like you got tossed under a- what vehicles do you guys have these days? Horses?”

He managed a snort at that and sighed, “Horses ain’t a vehicle, brother.”

“Doesn’t answer what happened,” Karkat turned to Roxy briefly, “Do we have anything medical here?”

Roxy shook her head and stood up, “Not that I know of, but I can look around.”

“That’d be great.”

As the sound of footsteps receded, Gamzee shifted in his moirail’s arms, curling up against his front, a mass of gangly, bleeding, and bruised limbs bundled up against his chest. For a time that was all that happened, he stayed pressed up against Karkat’s front, exhausting and aching. Even the silence though remained a comfort as he stayed there. The glorious quiet and peace unfortunately came to an end though.

“They’re gonna kill me, brother.” His answer came out a whisper, shaky and small.

The silence continued until Karkat’s voice returned with a dark waver to it, “Who’s going to kill you?”

“Dunno, beloved, those people what said I was-” He choked on his words, steeling himself, “What said I was a- a heretic. False prophet, she said. Said I was jus’- jus’ tryna fuck everythin’ up, jus’ doin’ it ‘cause I’m selfish.” He curled his nails in the front of Karkat’s robes and took a deep shaky breath, “Don’t wanna die. Glad I get ta see you ‘fore I go though.” He swallowed the lump in his throat and tucked his face into Karkat’s shoulder.

“Gamzee-” He started, “Gamzee, it’s- it’s gonna be okay. I’ll- I’ll find some way to stop them. Burn them all if I have to”

He shook his head slowly against Karkat’s shoulder, “Don’t do well t’be hurtin’ people.”

“Look at what they’re  _ doing _ to you. Look at yourself, you’re-” He took a deep breath and clutched Gamzee just a little tighter, still careful to keep from squeezing too hard, “I’m not losing you again. Not when you’re finally getting a fresh start.”

Gamzee pressed his lips in a soft chaste kiss against the nape of Karkat’s neck, “Shush, brother, it ain’t worth all those lives. Calm down it’s- it ain’t okay, but I- you can’t do that. Not in my motherfuckin’ name, beloved.”

“What do you want me to  _ do.  _ I have to do  _ something,  _ Gamzee.”

“Just- Just hold me, Alright?”

Silence.

“Karkat?”

A gentle nodding of his moirail’s head and all the tension that had built up in his aching body eased out of him and he went entirely lax against Karkat’s shoulder. His moirail’s grip around his shoulders tightened just enough to keep him from slipping down against him.

“Thanks, best friend.” He curled up in Karkat’s arms and let himself relax, “Pale for you, brother.”

Kakat’s voice shook when he spoke up, “I’m pale for you too, Gamzee.” 

Gamzee hummed, so  _ tired. _ So  _ exhausted.  _

He didn’t even notice when he fell asleep, rocked back and forth in his moirail’s arms until he faded from the realm of the gods back to that of mortals.

* * *

The sun began to dip down low in the sky when they came for him again. His hands clasped together praying to the gods for those he would leave behind when they killed him. For the wrigglers who wouldn’t have homes without the family he’d gathered. He prayed that his followers would stay together and take care of each other, that they had been and would continue to be spared every torture they had subjected  _ him _ to.

The same woman who had tortured him through the night led a group of guards. Hoisted to his feet by unyielding hands around his upper arms, Gamzee was dragged from his cell out into the setting sun.

Over the field surrounding the village the sun dipped lower into the sky, barely touching the horizon and painting the sky red, not a cloud for miles. His eyes scanned the faces of the villagers as they dragged him through the streets to the outskirts, the flat field interrupted by a patch of bare ground. In the center of the patch of earth a pole stuck up from the ground. His stomach dropped as the guards tied his wrists around the back of the beam and his knees quivered under his own weight. He closed his eyes in grim acceptance until the sound of a wriggler shouting “let  _ go _ of me!” caught his ear and his eyes snapped open to watch the guards marching the people he’d begun to call family through the streets towards the clearing. His followers struggled as they saw him beaten bloody, tied to a stake in the earth.

Following the parade of his followers came a man dragging a stockpile of wood to the clearing. 

They were going to  _ burn _ him.

The man piled wood around Gamzee’s feet and he took a deep breath, staring up at the red sky, blinking tears from his eyes, mumbling a prayer to the gods, begging that his death be quick and that these people not harm the wrigglers if nothing else, please protect the children.

“Gamzee Makara, burned for heresy, for claiming to speak for the gods, for spreading insurrection, for practicing witchcraft for-”

Gamzee steeled himself, each transgression another stone in the pit of his stomach. The man who’d carried in the wood knelt before the wood pile and struck two stones together once.

Twice.

The third striking of stones together brought a fire crackling to life and already he could feel the heat against his face. The fire began eating into the wood piled up around him. As the fire spread, smoke billowed up around him and he gasped and hacked. The  _ heat _ was unbearable and he struggled to breathe through the fumes in the air, eyes watering and his knees giving out beneath him as his lungs began to fail him, bringing him only closer to the heat and he clenched his jaw tight, muffling screams of pain as the fire began to lick at his skin burning it black, setting his clothes aflame. Soon he couldn’t breathe at all, suffocated by the billowing smoke that rose into the red sky around him.

The shrill screams of wrigglers and guttural cries erupted into the air as he burned, the red sky reflecting the flame devouring his body. 

Nobody could tell you how it happened. 

The fire jumped from the center of the clearing to the field, the flames rising and sending villagers screaming for water. The flames grew higher than the field should have let them and it seemed to dance. The bronze armor of the guards around the village heated up with the proximity to the flame. Guards released their charges and ripped at their own armor, attempting to free themselves as it seared their own skin.

The ground rumbled and from among Gamzee’s followers cries arose, “The gods!” “They’ve angered the gods!”

The prison where they’d all been kept came tumbling down, the wooden structures of homes collapsed inwards, crushing people inside and the fire spreading in the field moved to the village, setting homes and stores ablaze.

From among the shouting though rang one voice clear and piercing into the setting sky, “ _ Stop!” _

And in that moment the ground ceased shaking and the fires around the village ceased to spread, the buildings ceased to tumble and the world came to a stand still.

In the middle of the fire Gamzee stood, arms raised to the heavens, wind whipping through his hair.

All eyes turned to him and from among the villagers whispers arose.

“Dead.”

“He was dead.”

“He  _ died. _ ”

Then from one of the wrigglers, “A  _ god. _ ”

“Karkat, beloved!” He shouted, eyes welling up with tears, “What are you  _ doin’. _ ”

Those who witnessed that night would swear that they heard the voice of the shield himself, would swear that he spoke to The Peacekeeper, would swear that he said to him, “I’m saving your life.”

“You already done that best-beloved! You already done that! Now you’re killin’ people what don’t deserve it! There’s children here an’ people with families an’ lusii! Brother, how can you take that away from these people!”

They would swear that the world froze, that even the flames ceased their flicker, that the wind stilled. 

“They would have you killed! Why should they deserve any less!”

“It ain’t our place ta say what they deserve, brother. Please, beloved. Leave them be.”

They would swear that they closed their eyes only an instant and when they blinked them open again the fires had vanished, and so too had the Peacekeeper, the troll who kept the Shield from erasing their town from the world. They would swear that upon the ground where the Peacekeeper had burned were only the ropes with which they’d bound his hands.

* * *

This time when he arrived in the realm of the gods he felt different, he felt concrete and real. He stood in the middle of the garden where the paths to each pavilion converged. He breathed in the smell of life and green. He had only a moment to enjoy the scenery before a short familiar troll came barreling towards him gripping around him tightly. It wasn’t until he’d wrapped his own arms around Karkat that he managed to register the gasping and sobbing and laughing from his moirail and he pulled him closer by the cloth draped around his torso.

“-thought I lost you, thought I’d never-”

Gamzee hugged his gangly limbs around his moirail tighter and buried his face in his moirail’s hair, “Ain’t ever gonna leave you again, don’t worry Karkat. I ain’t goin’ nowhere. I ain’t goin’ nowhere. ‘M here, best beloved. I’m here for good, I can feel it.”


End file.
